


The End of the Lies (When the Truth begins)

by redcurlzbychoice



Series: (From the Earth below to the Heavens above) That‘s how Far and Funny is Love [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Declarations Of Love, First Time, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, Missing Scene, Scene: The Bus Ride (Good Omens), That bus scene, just fluff, lots of fluff, lots of holding hands, no kissing yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 14:43:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21272885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcurlzbychoice/pseuds/redcurlzbychoice
Summary: Aziraphale glided into the seat next to him and with one smooth motion of his arm placed his left hand onto Crowley’s like he‘d done this a thousand times before. (He had done it a thousand times before, but only in a very back corner of his labyrinthean imagination that he hardly dared to visit.)Crowley took one single deep breath in, then froze completely, bow-taut.„Angel,...“Crowley’s voice was rough. Utter surprise, caution exercised and perfected over the course of millennia and the faintest, tiniest (but undeniably also existing for millennia) glimmer of hope were audible in that single word.„Angel, what..., what‘s this?“ Crowley stared from the angel‘s face down to their hands on his thigh and back into his Angle‘s eyes, trying to read some meaning into his Angel‘s demeanour.————————————————————————Yet another try on that bus scene post-Armageddon and what will follow. Just had to get it out of my system.Part One of I don‘t know yet how many, we‘ll eventually get there...This one is about confessing their Love for the very first time.





	The End of the Lies (When the Truth begins)

So when he rose from the bench to get on the bus with this comforting, kind, clever demon, Aziraphale finally had resolved to love Crowley with all his heart and soul. 

He followed Crowley up the aisle. The slender demon slithered into a seat at the window with his usual sinuous movement but then for once sat unusually upright, with his hands resting tensly on his thighs, staring strainedly straight ahead.

Aziraphale glided into the seat next to him and with one smooth motion of his arm placed his left hand onto Crowley’s like he‘d done this a thousand times before. (He had done it a thousand times before, but only in a very back corner of his labyrinthean imagination that he hardly dared to visit.)

Crowley took one single deep breath in, then froze completely, bow-taut, uttering not a single sound though Aziraphale could see him swallow hard. His fingers twitched faintly under Aziraphale‘s but otherwise stayed where they were. Crowley exhaled very controlled, inhaled deeply again and ever so slowly turned his head, searching for Aziraphale‘s eyes.

„Angel,...“ 

Crowley’s voice was rough. Utter surprise, caution exercised and perfected over the course of millennia and the faintest, tiniest (but undeniably also existing for millennia) glimmer of hope were audible in that single word.

„Angel, what..., what‘s this?“

Crowley stared from the angel‘s face down to their hands on his thigh and back into his Angle‘s eyes, trying to read some meaning into his Angel‘s demeanour. The twitch in his fingers had spread to his whole body by now, and if it had‘t been for Aziraphale‘s body blocking the easy way out of his seat, he surely would have bolted. The one part of him that had ceased moving though was his hand beneath the angel‘s. It felt burning hot, like his whole soul were covered by Aziraphale‘s hand, and there was no earthly, etheral nor hellish power that would bring him to move away his hand from his Angel‘s touch, although the rest of his body seemed to desperately want to flee somewhere else.

Suddenly Crowley realized he actually didn’t have any desire at all of getting away, but he yearned to stay where he was, he so desperately yearned to feel the angel‘s touch and keep staring with eyes wide open at Aziraphale‘s face and surrender himself to whatever his Angel would think of next to torment his loving soul.

Aziraphale too swallowed hard. Although he knew now for sure what he wanted, at last, he had not the slightest plan of how to get there, how to finally tell and show Crowley that he loved him. How to enunciate that tonight he was at last ready to choose Crowley‘s side after all these years, to join his love finally on their own side.

He searched for Crowley’s eyes behind the sunglasses and then, still at a loss about what to do next, looked down to their hands. He suddenly realised that all he wanted at the moment was to feel Crowley, be near him, touch him, and so he slowly moved his right hand over too, lifted up Crowley’s hand oh so so softly and cradeled it between his palms. His fingers started to caress Crowley’s fingers, gently, softly touching and moving and exploring his skin and knuckles and fingertips.

Crowley was still stunned. His whole body had congealed except for his hand that seemed not be connected to his body anymore but float free, enveloped in Aziraphale’s caress; limp, floppy, without any will of his own, and at the same time holding his whole being, leaning into and relinquishing to Aziraphale‘s touch.

His breathing had stopped now, longer than any human could have sustained, and just before Crowley was certain he at last would be smitten into pieces by the Angel of the Eastern Gate, this very Angel suddenly knew how to tell, what to say, and Aziraphale said gently, his gaze still fixed on their clasped hands, the only words that were magnificent enough in their simplicity:

„I love you, Crowley.“

Crowley‘s soul exploded.

His soul, his brain, his everything was cought between overdrive and going blank completely and therefore ceased to function for the moment. He couldn‘t think, he couldn‘t feel and concurrently he thought and felt everything, a whole six millennia of thoughts and feelings and loving and longing and frustration and disappointment and hope - six millennia of hoping, of holding on to hope, of clinging to the faint glimpses of hope his Angel sometimes would offer him.

Still not able to comprehend what was just now happening, Crowley watched Aziraphale lift up his head, felt that the angel started to remove his hands from his own („No, no, nonono, nononooooooo, leave ’em there!“ a last single brain cell erupted) and then Aziraphale turned his head to look into Crowley’s eyes, using his freed hands to remove his sunglasses, to look into Crowley’s wide open yellow serpentine eyes, using his now conveniently placed hands to cup his cheeks (Ooooohhhhhh!!! went the cell and happily erupted into oblivion) and again these unprecedented marvellous words caressed Crowley’s eardrums, danced along his nerves and slowly nestled into his brain.

„I love you, Crowley, my Friend, my Dearest, my Love.I‘m so sorry it needed the world to nearly end to acknowledge what surely has been there for -well, God knows how long-, but here I am, finally. I love you, Crowley, my Dearest, and I do hope you can forgive me for being - for being myself.“

Crowley stared at him. Just stared, expression blank.

From very far off he became aware that it was Aziraphale now who started to fidget under Crowley’s vacant glance.

First, Crowley could move his eyes again. His gaze went from his angel‘s eyes to his mouth (His lips! So often pouting, but now slightly open, strained in waiting for his reply, his Lips!!), all over his face, ears, nose, eyebrows, his ridiculous tuft of angelic curls that he so longed to bury his face in, to inhale their smell, Aziraphale’s magnificent angelic - no, aziraphalic smell that Crowley was able to distinguish from any other smell in God‘s Creation since back to that day on the Wall when he had leaned towards the angel under the shelter of his white wing; back to his eyes, and in discovering that he could move his limbs again Crowley took Aziraphale‘s hands from his cheeks, only so he could swing his whole body around and be able to face Aziraphale fully, cradle the angel‘s hands in his, still looking at their hands, his lips, his eyes...

„Crowley, please, I know I‘ve been letting you down so often before but please!“ Aziraphale begged. „Say something! Anything. My Dearest. My Love. Please!“

And all of a sudden the tension, the longing, the confusion broke from Crowley’s lips:

„You -WHAT???? Angel! You, ...you ... you tell me for centuries you don‘t even like me, I go too fast for you and whatever - hush me up in public, - Not my friend! Really?!! - and now you choose a BUS to tell me you love me??? A BUS???!!! For all the world to hear???“ 

He suddenly went all limp again, his hand kneading Aziraphale’s. „Aziraphale, what‘s gotten into your splendid angelic brain now? That wine wasn‘t so strong or was it for you? Is this some new fancy of yours after all that happened today? Aziraphale, I‘m lost.“

Because he still didn‘t dare to hope, fulfillment surely wasn‘t happening to him, he was a demon after all, always longing, always carrying that godless dire craving for love in his soul.

Crowley stared into the angel‘s face, pupils dilated so wide Aziraphale felt like they would absorb him any moment now, and for the first time in his life he was willing to give himself fully over to Crowley, to dive into these slit reptilian eyes and right into Crowley‘s soul, open up his own soul and innermost feelings to the one being other than God that he really really cared about.

„Oh Crowley, I know it took me centuries to get here! I mean I knew that I love you for years now, you surely felt that too.“ („Nooo, “, Crowley thought somewhere back in his mind, not really trying to figure out how he should have come to such a sweeping conclusion when his Angel did such a good job in denying his feelings so vehemently over and over again...)

„And back then in that church I realized how much you indeed love me,“ („Only in that church? How about the all these other times when I fulfilled your every wish or rushed to your rescue?“ Crowley couldn’t help asking himself, completely baffled where these revelations would lead to.) „and how much you care for me, and my little penchants, and how much indeed I wanted to be with you, every day, every minute,“ (Crowley listened in awe. Now that was a new one...) „but I didn‘t know how to act on these feelings. And what heaven would make of it. And how hell would curse and punish you for it. And and and. Those are sorry excuses, I know. I only knew my love for you shouldn’t put you in danger.

But today, out there in the airfield, I ..., I had... I realized that God’s ineffable plan indeed -well, most probably, it‘s still ineffable, isn‘t it?- is all about love, and being loved, and that my love for you is part of that love and therefore no angels or demons or humans ever must have any right to hinder me, hinder us from this love.

And then, just now, you offered me to stay at your place - Only if I like. You offered me so cautiously again to be on a side of our own, and ... visions of how our lives could be - finally, together! - washed over me and nearly drowned me, and I, .... Oh Crowley, I do! I want!I do love you so much. And I want to be with you. Now. Forever. Crowley? Do you listen? Do you understand?“

Crowley was once more only staring at him. Speechless. Whatever he had expected Aziraphale would tell him, to make him hope or crush him again, this was just so much more, so much better than anything he had ever dreamed of. Crowley felt his head tilting forward to touch Aziraphale‘s so gently, curls tickling his forehead and barely breathing he willed his voice to master up some words.

„‘s fine, Angel, ‘s fine. Whatever you... You love me? You really love me? This wretched dipwad of a demon? You sure?“

„I do love you, my kind cunning demon!“ Crowley so longed to bask in the loving sunshine of his Angel’s voice and words, always did and always would. „I love you, Crowley. And I‘ll say it a thousand times over until you believe me. I love you.“

And finally the minuscule grain of hope for love fell onto fertile soul and started to sprout and grow all inside Crowley’s being and when his love grew so mighty that his soul wasn‘t able to contain it anymore it spread over to Aziraphale and filled him up too, tangled with Aziraphale‘s Love and offered a trellis for The Angelic Love to come over and get all tangled inside Crowley, too.

Crowley lifted his head and beamed at Aziraphale with eyes and mouth and his whole being. 

He felt so filled up with love, love for his Angel and love in general as he‘d never been before. (Well, maybe before the Fall - but then there hadn’t been this Angel with these fair curls beaming back at him, so what happened now felt absolutely ..ineffable?)

And that - though or because this was such a new and exhilarating sensation - made Crowley feel a little mischievous again. With a jubilant smirk he couldn’t help but tease his Angel.

„Mmmh, ’k.Quite alright for me, that is.“

He slouched back into his seat with the biggest bright grin in his face, though never letting go of Aziraphale‘s hand ever again. 

„Oh, you benediction of a demon! Can’t you be serious just for the sake of the moment!“ Aziraphale cried out loud, but secretly he admired his Demon for his cheek.

And loved him deeply of course, with all his angelic might, and definitely not only in secret anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was the second piece I ever wrote.  
The first one will hopefully be up soon, as it follows this one immediately in context (but one has to get started somewhere...)
> 
> Hope you liked it. 
> 
> The title is of course from one of the most truthful lovesongs ever written, „Funny how love is“, by the unrivalled Mr. Freddie Mercury, may he be celebrating in peace wherever he is, from the second of all Queen albums, very practically named „Queen II“.
> 
> I changed it from „multiple chapters“ into a series, as ratings may change over time...


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